


Kiss and (Don't) Tell

by InHerOwnWorld



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Gettin' naughty in the potions room, Hogwarts AU, sleep-deprived writing experiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10974345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InHerOwnWorld/pseuds/InHerOwnWorld
Summary: Unspoken Rule Number One at Hogwarts: Gryffindors and Slytherins are to despise one another at all times. Fraternization between the two houses is strictly forbidden, lest you want to become a social pariah and suffer in isolation.Too bad Nick Wilde enjoys breaking rules and Judy Hopps enjoys reinventing them.-Or: The Hogwarts AU no one asked for.





	Kiss and (Don't) Tell

**Author's Note:**

> May or may not make this a part of a series of one-shots set within the same universe. For now, it is a standalone.

Devoid of Hogwarts students and professors, the Potions Stock Room is silent when Judy slips in. Bottles of various chemicals and ingredients fill the rows of shelves lined up in the room. Spare tables and cauldrons sit untouched in the remaining space, covered in layers of dust. From her numerous visits, she has accustomed herself to its wacky layout, and is able to maneuver around the materials with ease.

Frigid air cause shivers to snake down the bunny’s spine, despite the grey paws rubbing furiously at her arms. Underneath her school robes is a dainty little dress slip, which doesn't do much to generate heat. The robes themselves comprise of very thin material, rendering them useless in this type of climate. 

“Dumb fox,” she mutters, leaning her back against one of the spare tables. “You told me to dress lightly.”

Which, she supposes, was a request she could have easily ignored. It isn’t like Nick to really care whether she follows his directions or not. Or to care about anything at all, period. Below average grades, constant detentions, disdain from his own house—Nick Wilde fills the role of “Slytherin delinquent” with ease. Based on his aloof and precarious demeanor, one would think he _enjoys_ roping himself into trouble and ostracizing himself from the rest of his peers.

Though, after months of private excursions and midnight conversations, Judy knows he cares more than he lets on.

“Where is he?” she grumbles, foot beginning to thump on the cobblestone floor. On a typical day, Nick arrives first to their secret gathering spot. He claims he prefers to scout out for any witnesses or eavesdroppers to ensure their privacy. Five minutes have passed since the time he claimed he would be there. Should she wait it out until he shows up? Take initiative and search for him? Moments like these make her long for technology again, it would be so much simpler if they could text their location to one anoth—

Out of nowhere, a strong paw covers her amethyst eyes, pulling her body forcibly backwards into a large, muscular chest. Locked in a tight, one-armed embrace and eyes covered, Judy is both unable to see or move, leaving her completely helpless.

Any normal mammal would, given the situation, probably start screaming and attempt to escape the stranger’s grasp.

“Talking to yourself out loud now? And you call me crazy.”

Sultry smile slipping across her muzzle, Judy relaxes against the mammal behind her and releases a breathless laugh.

Sugary-sweetness dripping from her voice, Judy remarks, “Crazier than finding the wrong train platform and running straight in a brick wall?”

Her captor groans. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope!” Judy chirps, grinning cheekily.  

Sharp, yet gentle, claws scratch under her chin in an affectionate gesture. “Sly bunny.”

Finally, the arms relinquish Judy from their grip, allowing her to find balance and turn around. Long, rabbit ears perk and quiver in anticipation when Judy locks gazes with the fox standing before her. With only a brief moment of contact between them, her body already preps itself for their established routine.

“Dumb fox,” she murmurs, heat pooling below her stomach as Nick bares his fangs in a toothy grin. He knows how his predatory traits affect her—how, against her instincts, her nipples harden when he shows off his sharp teeth and how the skin under her fur tingles wherever his claws touch. She could pet and brush through his luscious, bright red fur for hours without tiring of her exploration.

Prompted by the direction of her thoughts, Judy steps toward Nick to dig her paws into the cream fur sticking out between the unbuttoned collar of his school uniform. Prides swells within her at hearing the hitch in his breath.

“Unkempt uniform again, Mr. Wilde,” she tuts, massaging his fur and feeling his chest rumble at her ministrations. “As a prefect, I’m afraid I must punish you.”

In spite of their evident height difference, Nick presses the front of his body against hers, his own paws starting to wanders towards her rear.

“Oh dear,” he sighs while closing his eyes, “whatever can I do to make it up to the Gryffindor goody-two-shoes?”

Against her front, Judy feels something harden and poke in between her legs. Her heart beats faster at the sensation, the action only worsening the dampness in her panties. Judging by Nick’s sudden smirk and the flare of his nostrils, he can smell her arousal.

“I’m open to negotiation,” Judy suggests, lowering one paw to rub up and down his crotch and moving the other to scratch at the area behind his ears. It’s a sensitive area for foxes, or so Nick had told her at the beginning of their…er… _acquaintanceship._

Due to the proximity of their bodies, Judy can feel when his chest tenses. A staggered moan escapes his muzzle, encouraging Judy to continue with her actions and exploration of his body.

“First,” he pants, eyes half-lidded, “robes. Off. Now.”

He emphasizes his demand with a firm squeeze to her butt cheek through her school robe. The pressure adds fuel to the growing desire in her groin. Obliging him, Judy shrugs off her robes, leaving behind a dainty dress slip. Nick doesn’t even bother waiting for her to undress; his claws shred the straps off and pull down the dress by pinching the edges. Later, she’ll be annoyed at yet _another_ destroyed article of clothing. For now, she places her paws on each of Nick’s cheeks, using her hips to grind against him below. Light growls resound from his throat, meaning he’s just as turned on as she is.

Not enough. She needs more. Standing on tip-toes, Judy nudges underneath his chin, a silent plea for assistance.

Nick purrs, hoisting her up so that her legs are wrapped around his mid-section and his arms are cradling her body to his. His lips hovers over hers, breath billowing out and cooling her lips. No matter how many times they perform this routine, Nick always needs her consent first, always pauses before taking the plunge—letting her decide when and what to initiate.

No hesitation on her end. She closes the distance between them, tracing his muzzle with her tongue in an almost lazy motion. Only when her tongue tries to poke between his lips does he open his mouth for her, allowing for their appendages to meet and dance the waltz they’ve spent months perfecting.

The graze of his fangs against her tongue sends a pulse downward. His claws touch any part of her fur that they can, causing her tail to twitch in pleasure. She shouldn’t enjoy this as much as she does. Gryffindors and Slytherins are rivals, enemies. In a sense, she’s betraying her own house, betraying her friends, betraying traditi—

“Hngh—“ she moans, relishing in how he tweaks and plays with her breasts. Oh, but this fox is so _talented._

Nuzzling her cheek first, Nick then unwraps her legs around him and lowers her to the floor as though lowering glass. Loss of contact emits a whimper from Judy, until she watches Nick start to undress himself. As he strips, she notes the theme of his boxers underneath his robes.

Unable to help herself, Judy giggles hysterically. “ _Carrot-patterned_ boxers? Really?”

“So I know you’re always with me,” he snarks, voice intentionally over-obnoxious.

Pants, shirt, and robes gone, Nick pins Judy against one of the towering wooden storage racks, bringing her paws up above her head so he can hold them there. He points his snout at her bare chest, sniffing and inhaling what Judy assumes to be her scent.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he starts, a guttural purr in the back of his throat, “but you smell absolutely _delicious_.”

Administering one last sniff of her exposed neck, Nick begins grooming her neck with his tongue, dragging it sensually through her fur. It takes sheer strength and will to not moan again. Not that Judy’s shy of vocalizing her pleasure in front of Nick, but the walls of this castle are only so thick, and every second that passes is a chance for a professor to walk in.

She starts tracing his ears, pleased to see the wagging tail behind him. Compared to the earlier days, Judy knows how to recognize and interpret his tells, now. It’s definitely an adjustment—bunnies and foxes convey their emotions and intentions in such different manners. One of the first times they met, Judy almost kicked Nick in the groin because of a misinterpretation of his actions.

But, well, as her Quidditch idol Gazelle would say: _Try everything_.

“You’re distracted, Carrots,” Nick mumbles against her throat, sneaking his paw up her thigh and— _oh sweet cheese and crackers—_ flitting in two fingers, pumping in and out to a fast rhythm. The heat intensifies, melting her coherency away and turning her into a panting, quivering mess. Through her haze, she somehow realizes that she’s not returning the favor, and trails her paws down to his lower abdomen.

As soon as her paw grips his erection, the rhythm he had built breaks. Nick stops grooming her neck, relocating his snout to the middle of her breast where he pants in staggered breaths. It feels good to see him mirror her state, to know that she and _only_ she has this effect on him. Barriers constructed around everyone else are broken down the moment they’re together. She means enough to him that he trusts her with his vulnerability—and that, overall, is what arouses her the most about this entire situation.

“I hate you,” the fox growls, stiffening as her paws rub his length furiously. Despite his words, Judy smiles.

“Which means you _love_ this,” she quips, admiring the way his growl ruffles her fur and vibrates against her chest. How could she have ever been scared of this? How could she have ever thought these actions were considered indecent behavior?

Three fingers pump inside her now, causing her to gasp at the new, sudden (and _very welcome_ ) pressure. This little ass hole, he’s trying to make her break first.

She calls him on out on it. “Slick, you always…get me off first. We-we should—nngh—we should switch it up.”

He chuckles, then wheezes as she lightly scratches his tip. “How about…t-together?”

In that moment, they stop their ministrations and share a significant look. Nick wants to finish at the same time, yes, but not…not in this way. In a different way. In a different, new, extremely more intimate way. Territory they have never touched upon or suggested before.

Judy continues staring at him, unable to think or come to a decision. Not that she doesn’t want to—sweet peas, she’s touched herself at night imagining what it would be like—but, logistically, would it even _work_? She knows enough about canid anatomy, particularly _Nick’s_ anatomy, to know the size difference. Not to mention the…er… _knotty_ situation after. What if a professor walks in and they need to pull away from one another? What if it gets stuck in her and they need to attend the Infirmary together for Madam Puphrey to remove it—

“Judy,” Nick whispers, rubbing his thumb (the one not coated in her fluids) against her cheek, “we…we don’t have to. It was just a suggestion. I wouldn’t…you know I’m not like...”

He doesn’t need to elaborate. He would never take advantage of her. He would never judge her for saying no. He would never force her into doing anything she didn’t want to do—because, despite everyone’s negative perspectives on foxes, Nick has a heart of gold and respects her so much that he would never betray her.

“I know.”

She brings her other paw to cover his own, closing her eyes. After a moment of deliberation, she opens them, sneaking a glance at the clock across the room. “Curfew is in 30 minutes.”

Nick's body droops somewhat, though he plasters on a strained smile. “Oh, I see. You’re right—it’s getting late, we should get going.”

Judy grinds against him, halting him from moving away from her. Smirk growing across her muzzle, she reaches up to whisper in his ear, “30 minutes, Nick.”

Emerald eyes blink in surprise at her. A moment passes before he seems to catch onto her meaning.

“Ah,” he smirks, “I see.”

* * *

Professor Bogo McGonabull stalks down the corridor, lantern in hoof and wand at the ready. He could have sworn he heard voices from the Potions’ room, most likely students out of their dormitories and pushing the curfew boundary.

The bull grumbles to himself, headed towards the door. If there’s another couple making out in there again, he swears he’s going to host a mating education seminar for all the houses and give a lecture on PDA. For the love of Purrlin, it’s not even _spring_ yet. Mating season is understandable, but _now_? In the middle of _February_?

He sighs upon reaching his destination. He definitely hears voices, but the door is too thick for him to make out specifics.

“ _Whoever is in there,”_ he bellows, making sure to incorporate as much anger and sternness as possible, “ _you have about 3.5 seconds to get your sorry tails out of the room before I stupefy your bodies and send you to Rumbleroar’s office_.”

To his surprise, the door is opened immediately, revealing—

He holds back a groan.

“Sir!” Judy Hopps salutes, a determined glint in her expression. “I’m glad to see you. I was just about to give this rule-breaking Slytherin a write-up for being awake past curfew. I caught him sneaking into the Potions lab, probably up to no good—“

As she rambles about delinquency and justice and whatnot, Bogo’s eye twitches. _Well, at least I didn’t walk into any sexual activity. Again._

“Hopps,” he commands, catching her attention and shutting her up, “return to your room. Same to you, Wilde. If I catch either of you out here again, it’s a one way trip to detention duty.”

Both stiffen at his words, wordlessly exiting the room and walking to their respective quarters.

Unbeknownst to the bull, however, the two mammals share a small smirk when he’s not looking.

Also unbeknownst to the bull, Judy’s sensitive hearing picks up on a comment stated under Nick’s breath.

_“It’s called a hustle, sweetheart.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be getting around to It Can't Be Helped this weekend, but I had to finish this piece that I started months ago. 
> 
> This is a very mini experiment for me. I've never forayed into romance or smut before. Have I read it? Certainly. Have I written it? Never. 
> 
> Should you have any tips about your experiences writing/reading good romance or smut, or if you have suggestions for how to improve my current attempt at romance, please share in a comment. I'm experimenting with different genres and themes and would like constructive feedback to help improve and expand my writing.


End file.
